


Welcome to Grillby's

by illegalsekrit (sansybones)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Anger Management, Break Up, Depression, Fights, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:08:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29911215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansybones/pseuds/illegalsekrit
Summary: Grillby's peace is permanently disturbed when a skeleton moves to town.(Rated Explicit for Eventual Fuckin' but it takes a minute to get there)***I never got a chance to properly write out my Sansby headcanon -- this is my interpretation of how their relationship went down “the first time” (pre-resets). This interpretation is an extension of my fic “Darker Yet Darker”, the relevant points of which I will summarize (and link to) in the chapter 1 end-notes.
Relationships: Grillby/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Welcome to Grillby's

Grillby’s favourite time of day was the morning, just before opening. All of the surfaces in his bar were polished and clean, every chair neatly arranged, the space completely still and warmed by the morning light streaming in through the windows. Grillby didn’t mind when his bar was filled with patrons, noise and spills - he loved it, actually. The crowded bar felt like a bonfire he’d carefully constructed growing into a hot blaze. But this time of day, in the morning, was a neat stack of dry tinder. And that in itself was very satisfying. 

He was proud of what he’d constructed here in Snowdin, and every morning was the chance to reset it _just so_. In control. Ready for whatever the day could throw at him. 

Or so he thought. 

Breakfast up. The birds were always the first ones in. Red bird liked her breakfast over easy, brown toast, black tea. The other: Scrambled with extra bacon and coffee - two creams. Grillby relished the easy warmup. Fire magic of this degree was child’s play for a fire elemental, but he found a meditative pleasure in doing it perfectly -- every single time. It helped him ensure that everything was in order before the true morning rush: the sentry dogs who always ordered seven breakfast sandwiches to go on the way to their posts. Extra bacon for Dogamy; Greater Dog - no onions. The register chimed, change was made, the dogs went on their way. The profit sums ticked up in Grillby’s mental ledger and it calmed him. He runs a good restaurant, and everyone in town knows it. (Good.)

Even though the light in the underground was artificial, it still swung in a predictable arc over the course of the day. The shadows in his bar now reflected the early afternoon light. The flames of activity had ebbed with the morning rush, and Grillby knew it was time to pile new logs and scratch at the coals. He would build a perfect platform for a blazing lunch hour. 

He built it perfectly, every time. 

He was stacking glasses neatly behind his bar when the door chimed open. He glanced up and it was someone… new. 

The new patron stood with the door held open, taking in the space with a lazy grin. Grillby furrowed his brow, mentally willing them to close the door against the frigid Snowdin air. Seemingly satisfied with the bar, the new patron finally did just that, letting the heavy door glide shut behind them as they shuffled inside. Without the door’s backlight framing them, Grillby could examine them more clearly. 

A skeleton monster… it had been so many years since he had seen one. They were short, their hands shoved into the pockets of an oversized blue hoodie. Their dark jeans were wrinkled, but they seemed mostly clean. Grillby twitched mentally as he noticed an untied lace on their sneaker, but he kept his expression perfectly even. 

The monster hopped up onto a bar stool. They seemed relaxed, and happy to be in the warm inviting ambiance of his bar. As they should be. 

“What’ll it be,” Grillby made sure to speak clearly, but softly. (Never a command, never intimidating.) 

“Uhhh how ‘bout a whisky cola,” the skeleton monster’s voice was a deep (and appealing) baritone, and Grillby carefully noted the working-class Hotland accent. 

Grillby nodded with a slight bow of respect. He didn’t often get a chance to make a good first impression, and he wouldn’t waste it. Without breaking eye contact, he flipped a (branded) coaster into his fingers. The sleight-of-hand trick didn’t go un-noticed by the skeleton, whose lazy grin tugged a bit at one end. (Good). He placed it quietly on the bartop.

He filled a rocks glass with fresh ice, then a martini shaker, into which he measured whiskey and lime juice. Every gesture led smoothly into the next, making obvious his years of experience and dedication to the craft. No pauses needed to think; every tool required immediately at hand. This was a basic drink. Basic didn’t mean _sloppy_. 

Grillby looked back at the skeleton while he lifted the mixer to shake it vigorously. He let his expression warm, exuding confidence and strength as everything mixed and chilled. The Skeleton met the warmth of his gaze. With a flourish, the chilled whiskey and lime was strained over the rocks. Three drops of bitters, then a soft gush of cola from the nozzle behind the bar. A slice of lime, and _done_. Grillby slid the drink gently out to the patron - less than a minute’s wait time. (Good.) 

“Thanks,” the skeleton’s grin grew even wider, as they lifted the glass to take in the drink’s aroma. They closed their eyes with the first sip, and Grillby knew they were satisfied. This, in turn, satisfied him too.

“The name’s Sans,” the skeleton lifted their drink in an introductory ‘cheers’.

".... Grillby," the fire monster replied.

  
"Ah, so you're the eponymous 'Grillby',” Sans gestured over their shoulder, indicating the name of the bar. “Nice!"

Grillby nodded gently again. _Damn right this is Grillby’s._

"Sooooo…” Sans swirled the half-finished drink, “What's a _hot guy_ like you doing in a place like _this_?"

Grillby narrowed his amber eyes. _Flirting?_ Snowdin was a quiet place and this was something he hadn’t had to navigate in a long time. The skeleton was charming, certainly, but they were a patron and there are boundaries that must be _respected_. For now, he said nothing. He fixed Sans with a polite but slightly warning gaze through his glasses. 

  
"I mean....... Snowdin,” Sans flushed ever-so-slightly under Grillby’s stern gaze. “I don't wanna be racist or whatever, I just would've expected you to be more of a Hotland type."

“Used to live in Hotland,” Grillby replied, flatly. “I left.”

"Ha, well, me too.” Sans threw back the last of the whiskey cola. They placed the glass gently down on the coaster and waggled their browbone a bit. Their skull was smooth and white. “The humidity was just _murder_ on my hair."

  
Grillby furrowed his brow at Sans, studying them. He didn’t know enough about them to know how to take the joke. Were they being friendly? Were they antagonizing him? Were they trying to score a free drink out of him? There were a lot of ways this could go. There were a lot of ways this could go _wrong_. 

Sans was watching him, they seemed to enjoy the micro-expressions Grillby was struggling not to show on his featureless face. 

"Welp…” Sans pushed away from the bar, pulling a crumpled bill from their hoodie, “The welcome here just got a whole lot _warmer_ . I'll be seeing you 'round, Grillby."   
  


Sans left, and the bar was quiet again. Despite his consternation, Grillby found himself hoping he’d see that one again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Darker Yet Darker (optional reading): https://sansybones.tumblr.com/tagged/darkeryet/chrono
> 
> Summary of relevant points from Darker Yet Darker (spoilers for that fic): Sans was created by Gaster, who was manipulative, controlling, and experimented on Sans in order to make him powerful. Sans was used to kill some of the fallen children, and in reaction, Sans left Hotland and learned to live on his own. This fic takes place right after Sans leaves Hotland. During this time, Gaster is still alive in Hotland. Gaster has created Papyrus, but Sans is not aware of this and they have never met. Sans is friends with Alphys and Undyne, but has not yet discovered the door and Tori. Frisk has not yet fallen. Resets/time fuckery are not happening yet.


End file.
